


Luke Hemmings: Superhero In Training

by brokenstereotype



Series: some kind of holiday [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Calums oral fixation, Descriptions of abuse in first chapter, F/M, Lukes Powers, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 01:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenstereotype/pseuds/brokenstereotype
Summary: Now that Luke possesses the key that holds the power of Ashton's deceased father, he must learn how to control it before it takes over his body from the inside out. Ashton resigns himself to the fact that they need help learning how to control these new powers and takes Luke to a place he has only read about in fairytales.





	1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Descriptions of Past Parental Abuse**

 

He’s dreaming in what seems like snapshots;

Chocolate curls held back by a faded blue bandana and a smile as bright as the moon.

A skinny defenseless boy foreign to his own eyes being pushed and kicked around.

Blurs of blood red and deep blue piecing his entire being back together with strong yet careful hands.

Bed sheets crumpling against two bodies folding together and being two halves of one beautiful melody.

A slash rips straight through the scene and a menacing smirk swallows it whole.

Chains binding his limbs until his bones feel as if they’re being snapped into thousands of pieces and reconstructing themselves into the build of a monster.

His mate laying feet away from him with wide and terrified eyes as his own body escapes him and he’s transformed into a beast with lightning licking at his veins and eyes blazing with nothing but cruel intentions.

The feeling of his chest being torn in two and an unbearable pain escaping from every inch of his being –

“Luke!” It’s Ashton’s voice, clenched in pain and fear that rips him from his nightmare, jaw baring down so tight, his teeth whine with the force. “ _Fuck_ , doll, wake up!”

He becomes conscious enough to recognize the tight grip his hand has on Ashton’s arm, bones and tendons struggling under the crushing vice of his fingers. His mate’s skin is a bruising purple, dark handprint stained like a tattoo across his forearm when Luke rips his hand away and stares at it like its betrayed him.

Ashton sits up on the side of the bed, rubbing at the sore skin that heals in what appears to be seconds. His movements are tense as he pads across the floors to the kitchen, yet more awake than the darkened sky outside usually accompanies. Luke spares a second for the guilt to twist his stomach at the thought of just how long he’d kept him awake with his disturbed dreaming, until the fire within his chest replaces it with discomfort.

The sound of the tap running echoes in the loft. Bare feet shuffling back towards the bed has his exhausted eyes blinking open.

The mattress dips as Ashton slowly climbs on his knees and moves until he’s hovering next to him, shaky hands carefully laying a cold cloth across his burning forehead. The relief of the cold fabric only lasts a second, sweat gathering beneath the cloth and turning it into a heating pad instead.

He’s shaking, bones twitching in agony and eyes crossing from exhausted delirium. The key sits against his bare skin, nearly melting into his flesh, glowing the brightest it’s ever been. Luke watches his mate watching him with guilt swimming in his beautiful hazel eyes, illuminated in the sharp glow of cobalt blue.

Ashton clears his throat, hands folded in-between his knees. He brings one of his hands to ghost over the flushed skin of Luke’s cheek, pausing just a touch away, most likely feeling the rising heat burning like a fireplace. His hand grazes along his jaw, throat, neck. Fingers skimming the sweat glazed across his collarbone. He hesitates when his path reaches the center of Luke’s chest, staring at the deep rise and fall like if he concentrates enough, he could pull the power through him and take away his pain.

Luke watches intently as Ashton swallows down a tight breath before pressing his hand firmly against his chest, pinky finger resting over the agitated heartbeat.

He moans at the touch, bringing his own aching hand up to compress his mates hand harder against the pressure in his chest, sighing at the feeling of masked contempt layering over the agonizing pain throughout his body.

“What does it feel like?” Ashton whispers as if he didn’t want to ask the question, hear the answer, be in this situation.

Luke squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his thumb along the web of Ashton’s thumb and pointer finger.

“Like I was injected with several shots of lightning.” He grits out, laughing bitterly at nothing and everything.

It’s silent for a few long moments, just the press of their hands baring down on the weight in his chest, Ashton’s fingers twitching against his hold.

He reckons he could fall asleep like this, his mates touch taming the power taking over his body from the inside out, like a dose of morphine.

“Come on.” Ashton coaxes. He shifts his weight on the mattress and then, in what feels like half of a second – less than the time it takes for the pain to resurface in Luke’s chest from the moment of absence of Ashton’s palm holding him together, he’s moved to the other side of the bed and crowds in close to his mates body.

Luke tightens his grip on Ashton’s hand in an effort to keep him from leaving like the tone in his voice suggests.

“What? Where-“ His bones lock up when a wave of burning electricity pricks beneath his skin. It feels like there’s a tiny little man stabbing at his insides with a pitchfork, sinister smile on his face as he waves the torture device all along his veins and small intestines.

“Where are we going?” He asks, exhausted. Ashton doesn’t answer, and when Luke wearily opens his eyes, he sees him moving towards the lift, thumbs twiddling together like his mind is elsewhere.

Regretfully, Luke pushes himself up from the bed, staggering to a weak stand. He huffs in short breaths and limps when he makes to follow after his mate. Even though it physically pains him to walk, he would follow this boy anywhere, even if he didn’t ask him to.

Luke leans his entire weight against the wall of the lift as they make their way down to the ground floor, Ashton shifting worried glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

Cobalt blue flickers along the four walls of the lift like a lightbulb ready to blow. It’s almost as if the key is struggling under the pressure of this power just as much as Luke is.

Ashton slides the metal door open once they reach solid ground, dark sky and bright moon hanging high above them. There’s a slight chill in the air announcing the arrival of the fall season, though Luke can’t feel it’s relief due to the ever growing heat rising throughout his bloodstream. Ashton shivers in his thin t shirt and pajama bottoms.

They move to the center of the open alleyway between two brick walls with Luke’s back to the sleeping main road. The vines hanging from the buildings look like stringy black hair in the night, the bags under Ashton’s eyes more prominent now that the moon shines down on them.

“You’ve got to release this power.” Ashton says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Before Luke can roll his eyes and shuffle slowly back to the loft, Ashton continues in a voice that sounds on the verge of desperation.

“It’s-, this is _killing_ you, Luke.” His eyes are filling with tears, words as sharp as broken glass. “And it’s killing me to see you like this-, to see what I gave to you slowly taking you away from the inside out.” He’s begging, Luke realizes.

A week without any progress made from him to have this power be apart of him rather than consuming him and finally, Ashton’s hit his breaking point.

Luke swallows a dry, painful breath.

“What do I do?” He asks in resignation. “We don’t-, this isn’t something I’m familiar with, Ash. I’ve tried all I could think of, believe me.” He’s so tired – of holding all of this weight in his chest, of watching his mates’ eyes growing more and more terrified of what this power is doing to him.

Ashton’s offered all of the help he could, but having been born into his powers, he knew about as much as Luke does.

Ashton licks at his chapped lips, “I called my cousin. He knows a lot about how powers work and controlling them.” He’s staring at the key spasming against his chest, eyes wild like he’s trying to recall all that he’s been told.

“He said that they react to emotion-, don’t know why I didn’t think about it because when mine would block up, he’d have me sit in a room by myself and flood my mind with thoughts of my-“ He inhales a sharp breath, eyes flicking up to meet Luke’s.

“What are you saying?” Luke asks, even though the spread of acid in his stomach at the emotion in Ashton’s voice hints at the answer. He tries not to image his mate locked in a room alone, forced to plague his thoughts with memories of his deceased parents.

“You need to get angry.” Ashton explains. “I don’t mean like, annoyed like when Calum leaves lollipop wrappers in your hoodies when he borrows them. _Angry_ , like your entire body fills with it and you just want to scream until your lungs give out.” He further enunciates.

There’s a moment after in which Ashton stares at him with this hard look, the sound of Luke’s ragged breathing filling the space between them.

Ashton brings his hands up to Luke’s face, hovering over the flushed skin of his cheeks. He hesitates for just a second, cupping Luke’s face between his palms, thumbs resting over the pulsing veins in his temple.

He runs his tongue along the cracked skin of his lips once again, eyes wide and frazzled. He presses his hands against Luke’s cheeks, tilting his head down so that they are at eye level.

“I love you.” Ashton says with conviction like he’s attempting to engrave it into Luke’s mind. He presses their lips together, just long enough for Luke to taste the guilt at the tail end of the words against Ashton’s mouth.

Any other time, Luke wouldn’t hesitate to return the sentiment, but the apprehension shining in Ashton’s eyes leads him to believe that whatever is next coming out of Ashton’s mouth is not going to be odes of devotion to his mate.

Ashton’s hands slide from his face with a touch that’s heavy with the need for Luke to understand and forgive him for his next actions.

Luke clenches his jaw tight, watching with a resolute stare as Ashton backs away towards the opposite end of the alleyway, feet dragging against the pavement, until his back hits the doors of the lift. They stand at least ten feet apart, Luke with his hunched over form that he holds at pathetically with an arm around his stomach and a tentative look fixed at his mate across the way. Ashton doesn’t waver from his hard stare, instead matching his glare with a definitive look of his own.

Ashton takes three deep breaths before he speaks in a steely voice.

“How long have you been getting bullied?”

Luke drops his gaze at the question, wanting to curl into himself and hide from the weight behind the words.

He knows this isn’t the time to brush it off and just drag Ashton back to the warmth of their bed, but he can’t help but to let out a bitter laugh and tear his eyes away from the unamused boy across from him in a pitiful attempt that he doesn’t see the hurt pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The chipped bricks of the building to his left hold his attention, staring back at him with its own crumbling form.

A pulse of burning liquid surges inside of his chest, knocking the breath right out of him. He takes in the state he’s in; veins jumping in agony, muscles tight and exhausted beyond belief, sweat slicking his bare chest like his blood is boiling below the skin. The power seems to taunt him, wrapping tight around his throat and licking at the last shred of fight he has left in his body.

He focuses his stare on a spot just over Ashton’s head, letting himself to finally think about what he’s kept to himself for years.

“When I was younger,” He breathes out shallowly. “My dad was my hero.”

He can feel the power in his chest, sitting heavy like a block of lead. He’s never spoke a word of this to anyone, not even his mother.

“He taught me how to tie my shoes and let me have a sip of his beer when mom wasn’t looking.” He can see the memories playing in his mind, right in front of his eyes.

“I always felt like I could tell him anything – where mom would pick for every detail and scold me for getting a bad mark on a test, he would sit me down and hand me a root beer to match his bottle of beer. Listen to me while I’d explain what I’m struggling with and he would tell me,” Luke closes his eyes. “ _No matter what, your mother and I will always love you and will be there for you when you need us.”_

After years of burying these emotions away, he didn’t expect to feel this much resent spitting out of his mouth with each word he says.

“He was the first person, after Calum and Michael, that I told I was gay. The first person I wanted to tell.” He speaks evenly, a dark tone that sounds amplified by the rushing in his ears.

“I was expecting him to blink it away, tell me nothing had changed, I was still his son and he loved me.” His bottom lip twitches, the liquid burn of the power sitting heavy in his fingertips, he curls them into a fist at his side.

“I didn’t even realize what was happening until he struck the back of his hand across my face and laid me out on the floor.” He swallows down the bile clawing its way up his throat, eyes narrowing against the memory.

“Everything changed after that. Mom was always working long shifts at the hospital, so she never saw the disgust in his eyes when he would actually look at me. Never witnessed the shoves down the stairs or the insults he would spit at me.” The power feels as if it’s encouraging him, waves of electricity sloshing through his bloodstream. He doesn’t look at Ashton once, knowing that if he saw even the slightest bit of emotion on the boy’s face, he’d drop this altogether. He knows he needs this. They both need this.

“Not long after, he traded the bottles of beer in for bottles of whisky. He’d watch me as I would do homework at the kitchen table, swallowing down a mouthful of alcohol each time I would catch his eyes. He’d ask me why I had to fuck everything up and why I had to ruin his life.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief.

“Usually I would just ignore him, go over to Calum’s if he got too loud. But one night I just – I just couldn’t take it, ya know?” He talks at the brick above the lift, seeing Ashton in his peripheral with his eyes closed, face pinched in pain.

“It wasn’t even the names he would call me or the realization that maybe my father never really even loved me, just the idea of what he wanted in a son. It was the fact that he said that I ruined his life.” His voice is rough, the power rising like a roaring fire.

“I yelled at him. Screamed at him all of the words I kept hidden between my teeth each time he would throw daggers at me. Told him that _he_ ruined _my_ life by spoiling me with unconditional love and then drowning me with resentment when I shared a piece of me he didn’t understand.” He can feel the hurt deep down, pushing against the power, but failing as it burns into rage. He imagines at any other time, he would probably be crying, but the sadness seems to evaporate like steam in a pool of lava.

“I said words that I wouldn’t have dared say to my father before. And then I left. Slammed the door behind me, I thought it was going to split the frame.” The power bubbles beneath his skin, the beating of his heart seeming to echo in his ears.

“By the time I came back home, hours later - it was to my mother cornered against the wall and _his_ hands raised at her, spitting nasty drunken words at her. He blamed her, said that it was her that fucked up their child.” The ground feels like it’s vibrating beneath his bare feet. His voice rises with each word, until he’s nearly shouting in the dead of the night.

“He didn’t hit her, but he screamed so loud and so close to her face, the fear she felt in that moment did more damage than his hands ever could.” He can’t feel his body. Can’t feel the veins in his hands burning in agony, nor his blood painfully mixing with power too strong for his average body. The words spill out of his mouth almost like they’re rehearsed, saved onto a tape and looping around his brain like a never ending soundtrack.

“He dragged me out to the front lawn by the collar of my shirt, berated me so loud the neighbors woke up to see what was happening. They all watched as he called me every slur his drunken mind could think of and when he kicked me in the stomach each time I would try to stand.” The images playing in front of eyes are washed out in a tint of red. His head feels as if it’s being crushed between two cinder blocks.

“By the time the police showed up, the entire neighborhood was gathered around our house. The next thing I remembered, after watching my father being shoved into the back of a police cruiser, was waking up in a puddle of my own blood and seeing my mother crying her eyes out on the front porch steps.” His pulse is jumping, hopping around on its toes to try and escape the scorching heat. He grasps the key in his palm, feeling the weight of it struggling to contain itself.

“I thought that was the end of it. He was behind bars where he couldn’t hurt me anymore and all that – but it was only the beginning.” Breath coming out in rough pants, he curls into himself, wanting to scream out at the pain. He can hardly breathe, let alone keep his balance on his trembling legs. His skin feels too tight, fingers feeling as if they’re being drained of all fluids.

“I thought – I prepared myself for the pity looks and the empty condolences from the kids at school. Even if they never even knew my name, I knew that they knew what happened.” No longer able to hold his weight, he drops to his knees on the hard ground, gritting his teeth and digging his nails against the pavement. The pain is unbearable, he almost wishes death’s arrival just to escape this suffering.

“The first shove came from a guy that used to cheat off of me in math class. He smiled in my face and, like it was a joke to him, said, “ _just doing what daddy would’ve wanted, fairy_ ”. He groans, deep from his chest, clenching his eyes shut tight. His breathing is rough, belly clenching with each painful throb of power that pulses through him.

“So even though he was locked away, I still had to endure the sneers and taunting left in his aftermath.” He cries out, the pain seeming to split apart his skin like thread being cut piece by piece. His body convulses, wanting to throw up the power threatening to kill him, but nothing comes up. It feels like all of his blood is being squeezed from his veins, drained like old pipes and replaced with acid.

“He’s the reason I almost failed my first year of high school because those assholes wanted to continue his legacy. He’s the reason my own mother won’t even look at me because all she sees is all that she’s lost.” The power claws at his throat, expanding into every crevice of his body. The power rises in him like applause, this anger fueling it into overdrive.

“He took every ounce of my dignity and spat on it for the world to see! I fucking hope he rots in that jail cell and feels just a fraction of the pain he’s caused me by rejecting who I am.” He can’t even hear his own voice anymore, the power surging through his bones like the cracking of twigs.

He opens his exhausted eyes and sees blood red.

 _“I hate you!”_ He screams, letting the anguish rip free from his vocal cords. The power consumes his entire being, causing him to howl in torment until he feels it slipping away.

He feels himself drop to his side on the pavement, one final breath pushed passed his lungs before he loses consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment he wakes, Luke’s certain that everything that happened was a dream.

He blinks his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling of the loft. The lights are off, but the sun outside is shining bright and filters through the window in an orange glow.

He flexes his fingers, feeling the soft sheets of their bed and frowns in curiosity. Wiggling his toes, he smiles at the feeling of content settled throughout his body. He stretches out his limbs, turning his face into his pillow that lingers with the smell of Ashton’s hair gel.

His chest is bare, the key sitting comfortably against his skin. Before, it had felt like a prized accessory. Now though, it feels like a part of him. Like an added limb.

“Doll?” He hears whispered anxiously.

He hums, propping himself up on his elbows, smiling lightly at Ashton; scrubbing at a dish pan in the sink that has no doubt been washed over and over.

One look at Ashton’s tired eyes and any thought of the horrors he remembers being merely a nightmare vanish like dust.

Ashton drops the pan in the sink hastily, rushing over to his side and taking in the sight of him with nerves wetting his eyes with tears.

Luke brings a hand up to Ashton’s cheek, catching sight of the healthy bronze to his own previously pale hand. He stares at it in wonder, looking down at his naked skin expecting to see prominent veins and bruised muscles.

“How do you feel?” Ashton asks. It feels like an eternity since Luke’s last heard his voice, making him question how long he’s been asleep for.

He takes a breath, flopping back against the soft pillows and sun warmth bedding. He feels surreal, like he’s woken from a coma into a completely different body. He feels –

“Better than I ever have.” He says honestly. Luke looks over at Ashton, trailing his gaze over his features; the green of his eyes, the bitten skin of his lips, the tousled hair that looks as if it’s been combed through numerous times by his hands.

 _He’s beautiful_ , is the only thing running through his mind.

Granted, he’s known this since the moment Ashton looked at him and he fell a little bit in love like something out of a rom-com, but it hits him now like a shower of cupid's arrows. It all feels sharper somehow, like someone’s taken a magnifying glass to his feelings for Ashton, highlighted each and every feature on Ashton’s face.

Luke smiles. And then he laughs, covering his face with his hands in astonishment

He sits up in the bed, looking at Ashton with a wide grin on his face. Ashton looking back at him with his own hesitant smile.

“I feel amazing. Like I could climb a mountain or – or run a marathon. I don’t know, I just feel so alive!” He gushes, wanting to spread out on the bed and make snow angels... sheet angels? Whatever, he feels on top of the world, he doesn’t have time for semantics.

Ashton laughs. A small, humorless laugh like he’s not really sure what’s happening.

Luke takes in the frown settled deep in Ashton’s expression, the way he can’t quite meet his eyes. He stares as Ashton flicks his eyes across the loft without staying focused on one spot. Now that Luke has categorized the mood of his mate, he feels a phantom feeling of something close to unease tingling the bones in his fingers. The discomfort only rises, popping each and every heart bubble in his eyes one by one.

“How long was I asleep for?” He asks in a small voice. He can see Ashton swallow from the corner of his eye.

“Seventy seven hours. Just about.” Ashton says in a voice as thick as gravel.

Luke’s eyes widen, mind trying to comprehend that he’s been in a deep sleep for so long. He thinks about the darkness under Ashton’s eyes, the sleep deprivation leaving his skin ashen and dehydrated.

The key against his skin is ice cold, albeit a little damp like it’s crying out for his mate. Luke feels the distress spreading slowly through his body like an iv drip. It’s like he’s got mood swings, but he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling like this, only knows that it’s doing his head in and making him slightly panicked.

He turns to look at Ashton, only to find him not by his side, but with his back turned towards him, picking out a clean t shirt from the wardrobe along the wall next to the bed.

Luke drops his head in his hands, breathing in slowly and out even slower. The distance between them is unsettling, a pull that they’re both ignoring weighing heavy in the thick silence of the room.

“I’ve been asleep for three days.” He doesn’t pose it as a question, hardly says it above a disbelieving whisper. Ashton wouldn’t answer him anyways, if the way he’s intently focusing on the plain grey shirt in his hands is any indication.

The sheets pooled around his legs suddenly feel like thick wool against his skin, the soft sheets like shards of glass against his feet. He feels sick being in this bed now, like he’s overstayed his welcome in someone’s home.

Luke pushes the blankets away from his body as if they were littered with bugs, scrambling away from the bed and rubbing at his bare arms self consciously.

Ashton hasn’t looked up from the fabric held between his fingers, though he hasn’t put the shirt on either. Luke kind of wants to cry in that moment, the memories of the few nights before flashing through his mind. Images of Ashton’s broken face illuminated by the moonlight, listening to Luke pour his heart out until it split him apart from the inside out.

He sniffs back the tears threatening to burn his throat, wanting to fix what has happened but not knowing how. He has a small urge to walk over to Ashton and wrap his arms around him and breathe in his scent.

“What time is it anyways?” He asks weakly.

Ashton wrings the shirt in his hands, exhaling one long deep breath. When he turns, it’s with a half hearted smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, since you’re feeling so _amazing_ – I’d say it’s time for school.” He says. Luke almost grimaces at the thought of going to classes all day, but holds it back in favor of giving Ashton a reassuring smile he hopes is convincing.

“Do we have to?” He tries.

Ashton puffs out a laugh, the first genuine one Luke has heard in a long time. His mouth twitches at the sound, the panicky-sick feeling stuttering to a yield.

“Considering you missed an entire week, yes, you have to.” He says, abandoning the now wrinkled shirt on the top of the dresser for one of the few pairs of jeans and shirts Luke has here in the loft.

Ashton holds the clothing out to him with a nod in the direction of the bathroom. “Go take a shower, I’ll call Mikey and see if he can give us a ride to the school.” His voice is weak, barely any effort put into his words.

Luke swallows, taking a step towards Ashton but not taking the offered clothes. He places a hand over top of Ashton’s and looks at him with eyes full of trepidation. Just being able to touch the warm skin of his hand makes Luke feel a smidge better, a fraction of the way to being settled.

“How about you join me and we can walk. Feel like I could use the fresh air.” He keeps his voice soft and tilts his head just the slightest bit, biting at his bottom lip in hopes that Ashton agrees.

Ashton doesn’t answer for a few loaded seconds and when he does, it’s just a chopped nod of his head. Luke takes the clothes out of his hands and lays them next to the forgotten t shirt, instead taking Ashton’s hands in his own. He leads them both to the bathroom, walking backwards so he can watch Ashton the entire time.

Once in the bathroom, he releases only one of Ashton’s hands so he can turn the tap on, making sure the water is just the right temperature.

The need to be close to Ashton swells. It’s overwhelming, like now that he’s had his hands on Ashton, he can’t stop touching him.

Without speaking, Luke pushes the band of Ashton’s sleep shorts down past his thighs so they land at a pool by his feet, sliding his hands up the soft skin of his torso and resting his palms at Ashton’s tense shoulders. Neither of them are wearing shirts, so he strips out of his own boxers, kicking their clothes to the corner and lacing his fingers with his Ashton’s, guiding them into the steaming shower.

He can feel the need to comfort his mate, feels it like a knife stuck in his chest. He crowds in close to Ashton against the shower wall, shielding him from the spray of the water, tucking his face in the soft spot of Ashton’s neck and breathing him in.

Luke unlaces their fingers and wraps his arms around Ashton’s waist, hugging him to his body. He can feel the beat of Ashton’s heart against his own, the trembles shaking his legs, the dampness of his ragged breathing against his wet skin.

He brings his head back, not going far, just to push their foreheads together. Ashton keeps shaking, despite the warm water raining down on them and Luke kisses at the corner of his trembling lips.

“Hey,” He coaxes, nudging their heated cheeks together, the need to be close clawing at his insides.

Ashton chokes out a broken sob, fingers clamping down on a tight grip into the skin of Luke’s hips, nails biting at the skin.

“I thought,” His voice is tight, tears working their way up his throat. “I thought I was going to lose you.” He cries, shoving his crumbling face against Luke’s chest, sobs shaking the both of them.

Luke holds him closer, wrapping his arms around Ashton’s shoulders and burying his face in Ashton’s wet hair.

Ashton heaves, hands pulling Luke as close to him as he can get. Luke doesn’t say anything, somehow feeling that what Ashton needs isn’t words of reassurance but physical contact from his mate.

“You passed out and-,” Ashton stutters out between his cries. His teeth chatter with the force of his shaking lips. “Oh god, you wouldn’t wake up. You wouldn’t – I kept shaking you and it was like-“ He shakes his head like he’s forcing the thoughts out of his head, hot tears streaming down his flushed face. Luke holds his face between his hands, keeping his eyes on Ashton’s shaken expression.

“You weren’t _breathing_ , doll. For five minutes, I just sat there and watched your – your body lay there, _lifeless_ on the ground. It was like you weren’t even _there_.” He says in trembles. His eyes are wild, like he’s watching the scene replay in front of his eyes. Luke feels like he’s watching it with him.

“I felt so helpless. I couldn’t even _cry_ – not until you started breathing again. For three days – _three days_ , I didn’t know if you were going to wake up. I never-,” He shakes his head resolutely, looking up at Luke with bloodshot eyes.

“I never want to feel like that again. _Please_. It was so awful. I don’t want to. I _can’t_. _Please_.” He sobs, looking at Luke with a truly broken and pleading face.

Luke can feel this ache close to his heart, almost like a shadow or a part of his body that he can’t place, but the immense agony suffocates him to the point where he feels he is choking on his own breathing.

Ashton claws at Luke’s skin like he’s attempting to climb inside of him, alternating between squeezing his eyes shut against the flow of his tears and skimming his eyes over ever inch of Luke’s face like he needs to convince himself that he’s real and _alive_.

Luke exhales a shaky breath, somehow knowing that these intense emotions he’s feeling are Ashton’s. And if this is just a fraction of the pain Ashton is feeling, he knows that the other boy is practically drowning in emotional turmoil.

He presses the length of his entire body against Ashton’s, molding him into the cool shower wall and connects their trembling lips together. Ashton’s salty tears run hot over Luke’s skin, his gasps being poured into Luke’s mouth.

They grab at each other’s skin, kissing like they need each more than air in that moment.

Luke can feel the anxious waves through Ashton’s touch and his kiss. He feels like if he can’t get closer to Ashton _somehow_ , he’ll break apart at the seams.

He takes one of Ashton’s twitching thighs in his hand, lifting his foot from the shower floor and wraps it low around his hip. This way, he can feel the heat between Ashton’s legs, the firm press of his skin.

Luke rocks into him, rolling their hips together with the grip he has on Ashton’s thigh. He wants Ashton to feel him, to know that he’s there and he’s not going anywhere but closer.

Ashton’s still sobbing against his shoulder, his hiccup breaths raising chill bumps under Luke’s skin. He smothers whimpers into Luke’s shoulder, biting at the skin and letting Luke grind against him with nods of his head like he’s letting him know this is what he needs.

Technically, Ashton is bigger than Luke in the sense that he’s got more definition in his chest and his muscles have seen the inside of a gym more than Luke’s. Right now though, Ashton feels so fucking _small_ in Luke’s arms, body curled into Luke’s chest and letting himself be held and cradled like he’s never had to do before in their relationship.

“I’m sorry.” Ashton sobs.

Luke nods his head against the crown of Ashton's, whispering his own apologies into his hair. He apologizes for leaving Ashton in his own darkness for days. For not telling Ashton how much he means to him before letting the power pull him under. Apologizes for Ashton’s past and how he almost had to watch another person he cares about be taken away from him.

They gasp their worries into each other’s skin, the slow rock of their bodies assuring the other that they’re here. They’re alive and there’s nothing else that matters.

When they cum, it’s together and it feels _right_ and like a release in more ways than one. It feels like a beginning and a to be continued.

The water turns cold but they stay pressed against each other, mouthing at wet skin and pressing kisses wherever their lips land. Ashton’s body is still trembling but Luke can feel that he’s more settled now, grounded now that he knows Luke isn’t going to vanish under his hands.

They dry off languidly, biting back blushing smiles when they catch eyes like it’s the beginning all over again. Although, it feels like a beginning. A new start to their story. Luke feels more at home in his own skin than he ever has and the key glows a brilliant cobalt blue against his chest. It somehow feels as if it’s smiling along with Luke in content and love.

-

Unsurprisingly, even the thought of school can’t wipe the proud smile off of his face. The walk from the loft to the school had taken them roughly a half hour, but Luke hardly paid attention to anything that wasn’t Ashton.He keeps a light touch on the sleeve of Ashton’s jacket, feeling a sort of pull in his chest to be near his mate. Whether it’s a need from Ashton, himself or a combination of them both, it’s a steady wave that keeps him moving through the doors of the school.

There’s time to spare before the first bell is due to ring, most students lingering around the cafeteria chatting amongst other students.

With the rush of everything that has happened in the past week, Luke almost forgets that it has been a while, more accurately the longest time they have gone since they have known each other, that he’s seen Michael and Calum. He has but a spare second to feel the guilt of that before he’s being wrapped around like a blanket by a body that is soft and smells like bleach and chocolate. Someone bumps into them in a haste to get to the bathrooms and Ashton hauls them over to one of the lunch tables, out of the way.

“Hey, Mikey.” Luke says sweetly. He tries to bring a hand up to pat at his head, but his arms are effectively pinned down by Michael’s hold. He stands there and lets himself be hugged and cuddled, not wanting to admit even to himself how much he has missed this. 

Without pulling his head away from where it’s smashed against the skin of Luke’s neck, Michael says, “Don’t you _ever_ do that to us again.” And bites at Luke’s neck to make up for the softness of his voice. 

Luke peeks over Michael’s hair and sees Calum’s lazy smile and inky black hair that’s sticking up at odd ends but somehow looks like that’s how it was intended. Luke tries to smile, but he has Michael’s hair tickling his nose and ends up sneezing. Michael pulls away from Luke’s neck, but keeps his hands against Luke’s shoulders, assessing him with narrowed eyes.

“Ashton said that you had the flu.” Michael says and nothing else. Luke glances over at Ashton, sees his small shrug, _what else was I going to say?_

“Yeah, uh it was nasty. Surprised I got back up from it.” He says, finding himself speaking the words to Ashton. He thinks back to the alleyway, Ashton feet away from him and watching as the power brought him to the ground. “Ashton took care of me, though.” He brings his pinky out to hook around Ashton’s.

“Yeah, well,” Michael drops his hands from Luke’s shoulders, reaching around to dig through his backpack. “I got all of your missed homework. I’m not helping you with it, though.” He says with a frown. It’s his way of showing how hurt he is that Luke hadn’t kept in touch for a week and Luke winces internally, knowing that he’s going to have to bring out the big guns to make it up.

“Thanks, Mikey. What would I do without you?” Luke says without any mock or sarcasm. 

Michael grumps, “Die.” And rolls his eyes for good measure.

He hands the stack of papers over and as soon as they leave his possession, he drops his gaze unnervingly to his fingernails.

Yeah. Luke’s going to have to dye his hair purple or something just to get him to smile again.

For the time being, though, Luke directs his attention to Calum. Sweet, sweet Calum who is holding hands with a girl Luke has never seen before. He looks happy - _happier_ and more at ease than Luke has ever seen him with another person.  Their hands are locked secure together between them, rather than the sloppy loose hold Calum usually graces a girl with with. 

She’s gorgeous with her long dark hair that could either be black or a dark gray and curls around her shoulders, a smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose and a mouth that pouts naturally. She’s shorter than Calum, the top of her head reaching his armpit, but she holds her head with this confidence that makes Luke feel as if he should bow before her. 

“Glad you’re okay, Bear.” Calum says. He reaches an arm around Luke’s shoulders to pull him into a hug without breaking the hold on the girls hand. 

Luke rests his head over Calum’s shoulder, blinking his eyes open and seeing the girl staring back at him with a pleasant smile. She tucks two fingers behind a veil of dark hair and pushes it away from her face. Luke feels a hiccup breath in his throat when the girls eyes swirl this stormy ash gray for just a second.

Calum pats at his back and pulls away, flashing his teeth at Luke with exaggeration and plump red lips. Luke huffs out a laugh, looking away from the girl to poke at Calum’s face. He watches as Calum absently reaches a hand into his jacket pocket, frowning minutely when it comes back empty and proceeding to pat down the expanse of his jeans and even the area over his heart like he’s wounded. 

Luke is at the crest of a laugh, feels his belly fill with warmth at the normalcy of it, when he catches the girls hand dip into her own jacket pocket and slip a blue jolly rancher into Calum’s hand. Luke’s smile freezes on his face.

Calum beams, popping the candy in his mouth and pecking a sweet kiss onto her cheek.

“This is Khalia.” Calum introduces, sweeping a hand between her and Luke. 

Luke smiles easily at her because even if there is something about her, she doesn’t give off any malicious intent. He looks to Ashton to check his reaction and frowns when he sees his wide eyes and clenched jaw. He tries to focus on finding that link between them and reaches out for Ashton’s hand when a diluted wave of _panic_ shivers down his spine.

“I’m Luke,” He offers a little wave. It’s uncomfortably quiet for a second too long. Luke tugs at Ashton’s hand, yet he says nothing.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Khalia says. Her voice is soft and sweet, her head ducking shyly so that her hair falls in front of half her face. It’s such a contradiction to her previous stance of self worth and strength that it makes Luke want to apologize for some reason.

“Calum’s told me so much about you,” She says. “Is it true that you can fit your entire fist in your mouth?” She blinks at Luke eagerly like her entire impression of him rides on his answer. 

Luke sputters, “I was _eleven_ and Mikey had to call an ambulance because I couldn’t breathe after twenty minutes!” Admittedly, it wasn’t one of his finest moments and Luke glares at Calum, hoping his expression screams _sworn to secrecy_. Calum shrugs and bites at the candy in his mouth with an audible clack.

The bell rings, thankfully, but as Luke goes to head in the direction of his locker, Ashton tugs hard on his hand and keeps him where he is. Luke is just so confused and even more confused when Khalia tells Calum that she’s going to the bathroom and will meet him at his locker. 

Michael slings an arm around Calum’s shoulders and the three of them watch until they are lost to the crowd. Before Luke can sigh long sufferingly, Ashton steps closer to Khalia and ducks his head as if to avoid eavesdroppers.

“What are you doing here?” Ashton hisses between clenched teeth. Luke rears back, looking between the two with his face twisting with the worst confusion he has ever had to fumble in. 

“You two know each other?” He asks, unnecessarily because neither of them answer him. 

“There’s been talk that your father’s powers have been activated." Her eyes snap to the key hidden under Luke's thin shirt. Luke brings a hand up to shield it reflexively. (He can feel a surge of power rise underneath his palm and he hopes the bright flash a blue misses anyone's eyes.) "The town’s been anxious without their _ceannaire_ for months and now, apparently, he’s taken a mate.” She talks quiet, but frantic, hands a blur of motion to emphasize her distress.

Ashton sighs long suffering and runs a palm down his face. 

“That doesn’t explain why _you’re_ here, though. If it was just that, they would have sent my cousin or his mate. What are you not telling me?” His voice has turned hard, muscles in his right arm bulging from the strain he’s using to crack his knuckles with his fingers.

Khalia exhales deeply and it shakes with trepidation.

“Hydrant caused quite a commotion. Ranted to anyone who would listen and even those who didn’t about you not deserving the legacy of your father. Word got around and The Court of Kinsley had received far too many letters of concern for them to not intervene.” She ducks her head, voice falling along with the gaze of her eyes.

“What did you - what are you saying?” Ashton asks, voice flat as if he already knows the answer.

Khalia’s eyes are back to the stormy gray when she says, “They’re coming. They’ll test you and,” She casts apologetic eyes to Luke. “And your mate. They are not due for another week, when spring arrives, but it’s probably best for you to return to Hornsby as soon as possible.” 

Luke looks between the two, feeling the pulses of anxiety coming from Ashton, but not knowing enough about what’s happening to add any input from himself. He puffs air into his cheeks for lack of anything better to do and sets off a little rudely towards his locker. It’s been a week since he’s been in school and he really doesn’t want to add anymore insult to injury. 

Now that he’s not in close proximity to Ashton, nor focused on any one being, he instantly recognizes the power simmering beneath his skin. It’s odd because when he brings his hand up in front of his face, it looks the same as it always has but when he flips his palm over and clenches his fingers, he feels _powerful_. 

 _“Look out!”_ It’s shouted right in his ear and Luke slaps his palms over his ears at the shock of the volume. He spins around, heart pounding, but there’s nothing besides the shuffle of students and lockers slamming. 

 _“Did you do the homework for calculus?”_ Someone asks. A voice he doesn’t recognize.

“No, I -” But there’s nobody there. 

Luke spins on his heels, feeling as if all of the oxygen has been removed and his hands shake and sweat at his sides. He can’t breathe. There’s voices in his head, from every direction, assaulting him and getting louder. It’s as if every conversation is being amplified all at once, the sounds of lockers slamming piercing his skull like gun shots. He’s stumbling, can't even feel the floor beneath his feet and his breath comes out in stuttered bursts, harsh and heavy.

There’s the feeling of suffocation closing in on him and he gasps helplessly, his knees trembling something terrible until they give out and he’s free falling. Before he can hit the ground, two arms are wrapping around his chest and taking his weight. He inhales too large of a breath and his eyes pop open as the sudden relief of his constricted lungs expanding leaves him lightheaded.

“ _Luke_!” It’s said too loud, but it reigns over the noises of the school, stabbing through his head sharp and panicked. Ashton guides his limp body into the bathroom, holding his weight against the wall. The sounds muffle once the door shuts but they’re still there, pushing and pushing at into his brain until he feels sick with the pressure. He pushes weakly at Ashton’s hold until he can stumble his way to the sink and puke until he’s dry heaving and his limbs shake with the effort.

He takes deep, shuttering breaths until his head no longer feels like cotton and the only noise he can hear is the ringing in his ears and the incessant pound of his heart. His hand shakes when he reaches for the knob to turn the water on, splashing his face with ice cold water. Hot tears sting his cheeks and a chocked sob wretches its way out from his sore throat. He turns the water off and it’s like all of the sound in the world shuts off along with it.

There’s a calming warmth sliding along his back. Luke lifts his head to meet Ashton’s eyes in the mirror, expecting to see his mate worried and confused but instead he looks guilty and sad.

“What just happened?” Luke asks, voice gruff and exhausted. His arms wobble on the porcelain and Ashton looks ready to gather him up in his arms again but Luke feels terrified and he needs answers more than he needs comfort.

“Your senses are heightened.” Ashton says. “And from the looks of _that_ , I'd say probably more than mine.” He doesn’t laugh. He brings a hand up to his hair and tugs hard.

“They were probably muted because I've been with you. But once you walked away, I felt this like _tug_ and I knew. Fuck. I didn’t think it would be that bad.” His voice shakes and Luke actually takes in Ashton’s pale face and drenched hair and closes his eyes when he realizes that Ashton probably felt every emotion Luke was going through.

Squeezing the counter top once more, Luke pushes away from the sink and spins so the he can lean against it. They stare at each other, more accurately at the others chest where their hearts are tripping into steady rhythms.

“Is it going to always be like this? I can’t -” He shakes his head, wanting to curl up in a ball and shake the rest of the adrenaline out of his body. 

“I think that was the worst of it,” Ashton says, sounding unsure. Luke is going to go _insane_ , great. “You need to find one thing to focus on. Don’t pay attention to anything else, just that one thing.” He reaches a hand forward to grasp Luke’s right wrist, slowly pulling until he has his palm face up. His thumb presses down on his pulse point and Luke’s eyes flutter shut as he feels and hears his own heartbeat thump along his entire being.

“If it gets too much, seek out your heart beat. It’s the one constant that you can rely on and it will help ground you. Focus on the beats, time your breathing with them. They’ll guide you, center you.” He speaks softly and even, taking hold of Luke’s other hand and replacing his thumb with Luke’s own. 

His breathing comes easy now, each beat of his heart untwisting the world around him. His eyes open and Ashton’s staring down at where his thumb is pressing to his wrist, head cocked as if he’s listening along to Luke’s heartbeat. 

Luke tips forward and kisses him.

It’s short and all lips and he can feel the relief from them both at the contact. 

He sighs when they pull back, ghosting a touch along Ashton’s arm before he turns to fix his appearance in the mirror. Ashton stays close when they leave the bathroom, silent and foreboding. Luke tries to smile somewhat comforting, but it feels wrong and misplaced given the circumstances.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” He says and before he enters the classroom, “And thank you.” It’s small and self conscious and Ashton looks _wrecked_. He doesn’t stop to dwell on it though because he’s missed too much school work and the teacher looks unimpressed by his reappearance.

School drags. He struggles to keep his eyes open through the first three classes and more than once he finds himself glaring at random students who don’t know the appropriate times to talk about their disgusting lives. He’s sure that there’s a bruise on his wrist from how often he crushes his thumb against his pulse point. 

Lunch is a blessing and a curse because he’s hungry as all hell but there’s also no escaping the roar of chatter confined in one room. It’s overwhelming and disturbing and he slumps into his usual seat with no grace or any fucks to give, just drops his head to the table and breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. Apparently, heightened senses also means smell. Someone has an egg salad sandwich that reeks something awful and there’s so much cheap cologne and day old meat from the cafeteria lunches, he shoves a hand over his nose and tries to focus on his heartbeat.

Only, it’s not his own that has his stomach settling. He picks his head up and looks to the left, no doubt within him that that’s where the sound is coming from.

Ashton’s walking into the cafeteria with Khalia at his side, both of them looking serious and stoic. Luke zones in on him, breathing in and out along with Ashton’s heartbeat. By the time they make it to the table, Ashton is holding his stare with heavy eyes. He reaches out to circle fingers around Luke’s wrist fleetingly like he both knows they need the contact.

They sit but none of them have lunches so they just look to each other. Luke wants to say something, he hates awkward silences like nothing more, but Ashton speaks instead.

“How did you get here?” He asks, obviously talking to Khalia but his eyes never leave Luke. 

Khalia clears her throat, “Getting out of Hornsby was easy enough, but Marc had put an invisibility spell over me until I reached the mountains. From then on I just made sure to be discreet.” She says, but her tone suggests that it wasn’t easy. Luke taps his fingers against the table top.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I'm pretty sure I had a panic attack this morning because I could suddenly hear like _everything_ within a five mile radius so I think I deserve some confusion.” He’s tired, so tired and embarrassed and lost. What the hell is even happening?

“What the hell is happening?” He asks with a hysterical laugh that is just _sad_. “And no offense, but what are you? What’s up with the eyes and how do you two know each other?” He has about a thousand more questions he wants to ask but he stops when Khalia smiles at him wryly like she pities him.

“Excuse me for my rudeness,” Khalia says. Luke blanches because she sounds _sincere_ and truly apologetic when Luke is most certain that he just insulted her. “I’m a fortune seeker and when you released the power of the great Benjamin Irwin, I saw the council enraged and storming our lands. I knew I had to come and warn the both of you. They are not going to take this lightly.” She urges, darting her steely gaze between the two of them.

“I don’t - I don’t even _know_ what the powers are yet! How can they just come for us like that?” He asks. He looks helplessly to Ashton, but he’s staring Luke down like he can get him to understand with the sheer force of his stare. Understand _what_ though? 

Khalia reaches out to take Luke’s hand and Ashton’s lip curls. 

“I saw turmoil, yes. It’s not pretty and it’s going to be tough. But, I also saw a warrior.” She says and Luke immediately looks to Ashton. Khalia shakes his hand and her head is shaking as well. “No. Not Ashton. I saw you, Luke. You don’t think it yet, but you were born for this. You are strong and a leader and our people _need_ you.” She’s telling the truth. Luke doesn’t know how he knows but her heartbeat is steady and her eyes are ash grey but bold.

“How?” He asks desperately. He’s been stumbling in the dark with this, both him and Ashton just picking and prodding at these powers until something _worked_. He doesn’t know how to help anybody, let alone himself. 

“Come back with us, to Hornsby.  We leave next week once the school lets out for spring break. Ashton needs to address his people and you can get the proper training you need.” She offers. He stares back at her and breathes in deep and exhales around the building determination puffing out his chest.

“Who will teach me?” He asks. And also, “Wait, _Ashton’s_ people?” 

Khalia smiles, but it’s still sad. She feels so sorry for him it bums him out. “Yes.” She says and nothing else. 

Luke looks into her eyes, willing the grey clouds to tell him something, anything. She blinks. Luke looks to Ashton and releases at quick breath at the hope on his mate’s face. 

Closing his eyes, he says, “Okay.” 


End file.
